


Some Secrets aren't Meant to be Told

by dontbelasagnax



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Best Friends, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Doctor Who References, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Minor Castiel/Dean Winchester, Minor Character Death, Multi, POV Female Character, Pining, Platonic Relationships, Reader is a Winchester and works at the BAU, Reader-Insert, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-24 15:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13814001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbelasagnax/pseuds/dontbelasagnax
Summary: (Y/N) Winchester is a valued member of the FBI's Behavior Analyst Unit.What happens when her two worlds slowly collide?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> HOLY SHIT I'M WRITING SOMETHING WITH AN ACTUAL PLOT!!!1!1!!  
> In all seriousness, this is a fic I've been working on to get out of the dreaded writers block.
> 
> This story is more like a collection of timestamps. Once the plot gains momentum the chapters will be set closer together, but the first few chapter will either have no set date, or be relatively far apart.
> 
> Sorry any masc!readers, but this is a fem!reader fic :(

You had, what some would call, an idyllic childhood.   
Your parents were deeply in love even after being married for nearly fifteen years, your household had a stable income, and you lived in a suburban house with a white picket fence.   
You played dress up with your mom on her date nights and forced the babysitter to have tea parties with you. You caught onto reading at an early age and no one could tear you away from the book you were currently reading. You took a book with you everywhere, earning you the affectionate nickname of 'bookworm'.   
Your childhood was idyllic, that is until the year 1993.  
At the young age of seven, you're parents were brutally murdered by a demon.   
  
You woke up to their screams echoing through the dark house. The shrill cries of your parents pleading for their lives and the laughter of a sick individual reverberated off the walls.   
  
You hid under your bed, tears of fear staining the blanket you clutched for dear life.   
  
Eventually all noises subsided and all that could be heard was the faint buz of lamp posts on the street.   
You clambered out from underneath the bed and skittered to your parent's bedroom.  
  
You will never forget the sight before you.  
  
It was a bloodbath. The once white bed covers were drenched with blood. Blood splatter decorated the once floral wallpaper. Your mother lay on the floor, so many cuts littered her body so that she was almost unrecognizable to your innocent eyes. Blood stained her nightgown and pooled on the floor beneath her. Your father's lifeless form wasn't any better. He lay slumped against the wall, the cuts to his abdomen so deep that you could probably see organs if you looked close up.   
  
You were too distraught to call 911. What good would it do anyways? They were already dead.   
  
You wept and wailed for them to come back to you for what seemed like hours, until someone came and swept you away.   
  
John Winchester.  
  
He had been tracking the demon for a few weeks. When John finally found a pattern in the demon's kills, it was too late. It had already murdered your parents.  
  
He had to pry you from their cold, bloodied corpses.   
  
John took you back to the motel he and his sons were staying at and cleaned you up.   
  
You didn't speak for hours, still in shock.  
  
Sam and Dean got you to talk. They asked you if you had any relatives you could stay with, to which your answer was no. Your grandparents on both sides of the family were deceased and your parents had no siblings. You were all alone.  
  
John wasn't usually one to take in strays, but he had a soft spot for you. Your parents had been killed by a demon and his wife was killed by one.   
  
From then on, you were a Winchester.  


~•~

  
Over the years you bonded with the boys, thinking of Sam as your best friend and Dean as the big brother you always wanted.   
Sam was closer in age and shared more interests with you. You both were on the nerdier side, with a love for reading, the Harry Potter franchise, and science. Since the both of you were usually benched when ot came to hunts, you had many inside jokes and late night discussions.  
Dean was more of your protector. He took the brunt of John's drunken beatings and tried to shield you from the hunting life as much as possible. He teased you constantly, all in good nature, and could always make you laugh.  
  
  
John tried his hardest to keep hunting away from you. At first it didn't bother you much, you didn't want to kill things, but them you saw that Sam did the research and you also wanted to help. From then on you weaseled your way into the life. It started research and slowly expanded into something more. Dean taught you how to use a gun and to defend yourself while Sammy taught you Latin and how to perform exorcisms.  
  
As the years passed, you yearned to go to school and have an education. You loved learning new things and the lifestyle you led was not the best for that. Sure, you learned about things that went bump in the night and how to kill them, but you wanted a formal education with subjects like English and science.  
During your teen years, you became more and more burnt out. One night, when Dean and John were on a hunt, you confided in Sam. He encouraged you to follow your dreams and get an education.   
With his encouragement, you decided to pursue your education. You had a hacker friend, you got rid of a poltergeist at their house, create a new background heavily based on your life. They gave you everything necessary to apply to college. Your goodbyes were bittersweet and tear filled, but your family new that it was for the best. You weren't built like the rest of them.

~•~

  
University was tough, but you loved it. You had to work multiple jobs in order to stay afloat, occasionally using credit card scams to pay for food. It was difficult juggling everything at the young age of sixteen.  
You majored in applied psychology and before you knew it, you had a bachelor's degree and were working on your master's.  
  
John went missing around the time you turned twenty. You took a short break to help your brothers look for him but eventually went back to work on your degree. It didn't seem like John was coming back anytime soon and you had already started working on your masters degree.  
  
You graduated at the age of twenty two with a masters degree in applied psychology.   
When you thought about what career you would like to have, you surprised yourself. One thing you loved about hunting was saving people. Being hated by all things supernatural was not so great, but at least you got to help people. In your mind, law enforcement was the same except generally less gruesome and with more rules.   
  
Since you spent years away from your brothers, you decided to hunt with them for awhile. You were with them through a lot of shit, including Dean going to Hell and Sammy getting hooked on demon blood.   
You bonded with Castiel, the angel who gripped Dean tight and raised him from perdition. Over time, he became your best friend.

~•~

  
After the break from school, you decided to enroll in the FBI training academy. You graduated top of your class, your degree in psychology and experience with weapons aiding you immensely.  
  
You were lucky enough to be picked by David Rossi to be the new member of the BAU, fresh out of the academy at the age of twenty four. He said you had a lot of potential and that you would fit right in with the team. They rarely chose agents with as little law enforcement as you.   
Sure you spent years impersonating law enforcement and killing creatures, but they didn't know that - nor would they ever.  
  
You got along swimmingly with every member of the team, although you were much younger than all of them.   
You immediately clicked with Spencer and Penelope. Spence was a bit awkward, but you couldn't help but see him as a kindred spirit. It was a bit crazy how many interests you shared with the two of them. Before the first week of work passed you found yourself with Doctor Who binge plans with the two of them, plans that would soon become a trend.  
The dynamic between you and Morgan was interesting. It was kind of like your relationship with Dean, just with a healthy dose of flirtatious banter. You quickly learned that JJ and Emily were the people to go to if you had any girl problems. Sure, Garcia was a closer friend, but she wasn't the best at keeping secrets. You always felt safe telling JJ and Emily things.   
Rossi and you had quite a close relationship. He was like the father you never had, since John wasn't exactly the best role model. If you ever needed advice, he was the person you went to.  
You and Hotch had a polite friendship. You knew some things about his personal life, but you weren't as close to him as he was with the rest of the team. You never hung out with him without the rest of the team. Most of the time it felt like he knew more about you than you did him.

~•~

  
Although you loved them like family, you kept parts of your life to yourself. They all knew basic things, like that your biological parents were murdered but you never talked about your childhood or friends outside of the BAU. Occasionally you would make the odd, vague reference to your brothers, but never expand on it. You wish they could meet the boys, but considering the Winchester brothers were on the FBI watch list, that was never going to happen.  
For all the team knew, you didn't really have a life outside the BAU.


	2. "Damn it Castiel!"

Spence's lips are soft and pliable against your's. The taste of coffee and sugar intermingly with the taste of the bitter chocolate you ate earlier.  
His hands are securely gripping your waist, thumbs tracing circles over the dip. You teeter precariously on your tip-toes. Your hands weave their way into his hair, gently tugging him closer. Letting out a soft sigh as his tongue traces the roof of your mouth.  
The two of you sway slightly in the moolight, unfazed by the low temperature.  
  
The passionate scene is put on hold when you hear a familiar flutter of wings; the tell tale sign that your angel friend has swooped in for a visit.  
  
With no warning, your kissing companion disappears, leaving your teetering on your toes.  
  
You huff and look over at the the man clad in a trench coat.  
  
"Really Cas? It was just getting good." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and cross your arms.  
  
"I had no idea you had such frivolous dreams, (Y/N)." The blue eyed brunet states with his head tilted as if examining you.  
  
"Girls have desires too ya know." Your fingers tap impatiently against your arm  
  
"I have no doubt. I assume female humans have similar sexual-"  
  
"Okay then!" You exclaim with raised hands. There was no way you were going to talk about _sexual_ desires with your best friend, who happened to be an innocent angel. Shaking your head slightly, you try to change the subject.  
"What are you doing here anyway Cas?"  
  
"Your brothers were wondering how you were doing. I saw you were asleep and I didn't want to disturb you."  
  
"Well ya did..." You mutter harshly under your breath.  
  
Apparently the celestiel being heard you.  
  
"Perhaps if you confessed how you feel about Dr. Reid, you could continue your actions from earlier."  
  
With that accidentally snarky comment, Cas disappears from the dream scape.  
  
"Damn it Castiel!"  
  
You jolt awake.  
  
JJ and Spence are seated across from you on the jet, the resident genius' head stuck in a book. Looking around you notice quizzical expressions on everyone's faces.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Damn it Castiel?"  
  
Your eyes snap back to JJ, who is looking at you with a quirked eyebrow and a smile forming on her lips.  
  
You cough and scratch the back of your head.  
  
"Um, yeah. Castiel is an old friend. He can be a bit blunt at times, earning him the nickname of Cas the Ass...or Asstiel. Seems he's the same in my dreams."  
  
The team's expressions are all fairly perplexed, probably because you had never mentioned having a friend named Castiel before.  
  
"Was this a dirty dream..." Morgan asks with a knowing smile.  
  
You blush.  
  
"Oh my god it was!" Emily interrupts, a shit eating grin now plastered on her face.  
  
Spence looks up from his book.  
  
"It may have gotten a little steamy before Cas busted into the scene - but nohing happened!" You quickly amend.  
  
"So who was this sexy dream about."  
  
Your blush deepens. Your cheeks feel like they are on fire.  
  
"No one," you answer almost immediately, looking anywhere but the prying eyes of your co-workers.  
  
The hem of your shirt seems exceedingly interesting in this moment.  
  
That was probably the worst possible response considering they are all well versed in behavior, seeing as they all work alongside you in the FBI's behavior analyst unit.  
  
You look up to meet their pointed, questioning glances.  
  
"I'm not telling you who it was," you cross your arms defensively.  
  
"It's someone we know then?" Emily indulgently leans forward at the table opposite yours.  
  
This seems to catch Spencer's attention again. He stares at you in a calculating manner, as if searching your face for an indication of the answer.  
  
You try to school your features, knowing that Spence is watching, but knowing yourself, your inner panic probably spilled into a micro expression.  
  
"Leave the girl alone. For all we know it could've her celebrity crush." Rossi butts in with a reassuring wink in your direction. He must've caught onto your distress and decided to help you out. Bless.  
  
"My hero." You joke with a thankful grin.  
  
"You know, it's interesting. The fact your friend stopped you from having sexual intercourse suggests you lack the confidence to actually go through with it, or you view the person of your affections as unobtainable," Reid comments offhandedly.  
  
You noticeable gulp.  
  
Although Castiel was most definitley not a figment of your imagination, that observation hit close to home.  
  
Doctor Spencer Reid is the man of your dreams.  
He has three fucking PhDs, an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory. He is quite literally a genius and oh so cruelly attractive. His sharp jawline and pink lips constantly taunt you. You often lose yourself in his beautiful green eyes when he rants; it's inevitable - they just light up whenever he talks about something he's passionate about. And when he licks his lips or rolls his sleeves up or furrows his brows when he's thinking - God, he must be trying to kill you. The man tortures you on a daily basis.  
Aaand he just happens to share your love of Doctor Who. You love when he catches your frequent references to the show; no one besides Garcia ever does.  
  
He's perfect.  
  
And it's just that. He's too perfect.  
  
No one like him could ever be interested in you.  
  
The only people that have taken an interest in you are sleazy men in dodgy dive bars and monsters that are not too fond of your family business.  
  
It's too bad you're hopelessly in love with the lanky man.  
  
Shaking those thoughts from your head, you smile sweetly at Reid and take drink from your glass or water.


	3. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some soft bonding time <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, so sorry that it's taken me so long to update! I've been working on this chapter for so long, that I have almost finished the following two chapters. I've just been so happy with how this chapter was turning out that I decided to step away from it for awhile. It worked and now you have a fresh chapter that I JUST finished editing.  
> I also went back and corrected some grammatical innacuracies in the previous chapter.  
> Life is super crazy for me right now so I'm not sure when the next update will be, but just know that I am working on them.
> 
> Now that we have all that out of the way, enjoy :D

You love movie night with Spencer and Penelope. It thrills you to no end that you can hang out with people that you share interests with. It makes you feel like you belong.  
  
Growing up, there were never many people for you to talk to. It was always you, Sam, and Dean. More often than not, John would be away on a case and then, sometimes weeks later, he would come back completely wasted. When Dean got older, he would join John on hunts, leaving you and Sam with the instructions to not leave the hotel room. It wasn't the healthiest of situations. On top of that, there weren’t any females you could talk to. When you first got your period, you thought you'd been hexed by a witch - talk about messed up. Poor Sam helped you look for her bags and when the two of you couldn't find any, you had to call Dean with you tails between your legs...which resulted in a very awkward conversation that he still teases you about to this day.  
And although You consider Sam and Dean your brothers, and you love them dearly, there's always been a slight disconnect. The brothers were very much co-dependent before you came into the mix and they had a hard time fitting you into their dynamic. It made you feel a little left out when they would have complete conversations with just facial expressions and you had no clue as to what they were talking about. And it didn’t help that you’re so much younger than them. When you joined the family, they decided to keep “the family business” a secret from you. They only told you the truth when you overheard Sam telling Dean that he found out what a certain sigil meant.

To make it simple, you felt like they had their own special little club that you kept trying to get into, but they kept subtly rejecting you. They probably didn't even realize they left you out because it was just how they worked. Because you felt like a black sheep, you and Castiel got along famously.

When you joined the BAU, You gained such an amazing extended family. They were all so welcoming and accepting. Sure Morgan and Prentiss love to tease you, but it’s all in good fun. Rossi constantly tries to get you to go wine tasting with him (no doubt for a bet) and you always turn him down. Alcohol just reminds you of John, even if it is wine - which John would never actually drink. But you can get around it because when the team goes out drinking, you and Reid stay behind and read books together. Garcia loves to plan group activities and the occasional girl’s night. The boys are invited to girl’s night but usually decline. There’s no accidental favouritism or exclusion. It's a big, happy, functional family dynamic if you take away the chasing serial killer part. And, odd enough, you feel like you belong for the first time in your life.  
  
That's why movie night is so important to you. 

 

* * *

 

It is movie night.  
  
Or at least it was supposed to be movie night, but Reid is lecturing with Rossi at some university in Ohio. The Bureau originally planned for you to lecture alongside Reid, but you came down with a mild cold and were in no condition to be in a school setting. So Rossi, being the most experienced lecturer on the team, volunteered to take your place.  
  
So here you are on a Tuesday night on Penelope's sofa with a box of tissues and union jack cup filled with camomile tea.  
  
"What's on the menu for girl's night, (Y/N/N)?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well since Spence isn't here and," she makes an act of looking around her studio apartment, "I don't see any beefy, hyper masculine humans nearby, it's clearly girl's night."  
  
You smirk at her playfulness, "Why don't I leave that up to you?"  
A small voice inside your head tells you that you are going to regret this, but you can't bring yourself to care at the moment.  
Garcia squeals and grabs your hands, pulling you to your feet.  
  
"First things first. Outfits. Come with me my young grasshopper." You roll your eyes but comply as she drags you into her bedroom. Your colorful blonde friend leads you to her bed and gently sits you down. She heads to her closet and starts searching for something specific. It doesn't take long before she's tearing through her closet, throwing random articles of clothing your way to find what she had in mind.  
  
"No." A striped scarf lands in your lap.  
"Uh uh." A neon yellow cardigan lands beside you on the bed.  
"Nope." A blue polka dot swimsuit ends up at your feet.  
"Definitely not." A pink, strappy number that suspiciously resembles lingerie hits you in the face. You set it aside with a grimace.  
  
"Do you need any help, Pen?"  
  
"Nope, I got this." She pops the 'p' and flings a dress patterned with Mickey and Minnie Mouses' faces.  
  
"Are you sure, 'cause-"  
  
"I am sure. Now, sit still and look pretty." You scrunch your face at your strange friend but abide anyways.  
  
It takes a few minutes before Penelope finds what she is looking for.  
"Aha!" Two onesies. One looks like a unicorn and the other looks like a tyrannosaurus rex. She throws the t-rex onesie at you.  
  
You scowl at the heavy handful.  
  
"Why do you get to be the unicorn?"  
  
Pen shimmies out of her dress and steps into the fluffy one piece before answering.  
  
"That, my feathery friend, is because I _am_ a unicorn." You roll your eyes at her choice of words; if only she knew your actual feathery friend.  
  
"And I'm a dinosaur?" If that is what she's implying, that girl is walking on thin ice.  
  
"No, I just thought you'd look cute as a t-rex." Penelope shoots you a sweet smile and sweeps her hair aside, zipping up the suit.  
  
Nice save.  
  
"The fun only starts when you get dressed, (Y/N/N)! Let me see those adorable teeny, tiny t-rex arms!"  
  
Smiling, despite yourself, you strip out of your pants and slip into the green suit.  
  
"Happy?" You say as you zip up the fuzzy outfit.  
  
"Yes, very much so! Now the fun starts!"" Pen grabs you by the hand and leads you to the living room. "Pick a movie. Oh and pick something that will make boy wonder wish he was here!"  
  
"Okay Pen!"  
  
Penelope gathers the movie snacks and you choose a film. Before long, both of you are munching on m &m's and laughing at Inigo Montoya's antics, who Garcia says looks eerily similar to the late Jason Gideon.

 

* * *

 

The loud sound of the doorbell ringing interrupts the playful atmosphere.  
Penny let's out a groan and rises to her feet, "Pause it, I wanna see the ROUSes!" You giggle a little, just now thinking of the scene in the fire swamp.  
She scurries from the couch, her pink tail swaying and golden horn bobbing slightly with every hurried step.  
She, unlocks and opens the door, ready to rip somebody a new one and-  
  
"Hey little mama! I brought wine from Rossi's personal collection." Derek stands in the doorway, jiggling a wine bottle with a cheeky grin.  
  
"It's girls night but I will happily accept that gift." Pen snatches the bottle and scurries to the kitchen- no doubt to find bottle opener.  
  
"Wh- girl's night? Since when does girl's night happen in your apartment?" Derek asks incredulously, leaning in the doorway.  
  
"Since Spence bailed on movie night," you reply with a mouth full of popcorn.  
  
"Well then why don't I take pretty boy's spot for tonight?"  
  
"Sorry (Y/N), I guess chocolate thunder is joining the party." Penelope returns with the now open bottle of alcohol and sets it on the coffee table.  
  
You shrug half heartedly, "It's alright- just as long as you respect the mastery that is The Princess Bride." You direct the end of your sentence at Derek.  
  
"Wait...is that the movie with the guy that genius says looks like Gideon?"  
  
"Yep, that's the one!"  
  
"Reid has been trying to get me to watch that for ages!"  
  
"Well you're in for a treat, hot stuff. Buckle up and and enjoy the show," Garcia says as she reaches for the remote and presses play.

 

* * *

 

The movie ended hours ago, yet the three of you are still settled on the sofa. Sometime ago, when Penny got up to use the bathroom, Derek swung his legs into her spot. When she got back, she shrugged and promptly sat on his legs.

That is how you got to braiding Garcia's hair as she sits cross legged on Morgan's legs, facing him. You assume they are having some kind of rigged staring contest from the way Derek hasn't blinked in the past minute and his mouth is pinched like he is holding back a smile. All of a sudden Garcia bursts into laughter, Derek following a second after her. She shakes from hysterics, making it hard for you to hold on to the sections of her hair.

“Pen hold still if you don't want this braid messed up,” You scold, but not without a small upturn to your lips. Your friends are always amusing when they're intoxicated. The two of them managed to down the entire bottle of wine over the duration of the movie. They continue giggling like tipsy idiots. You roll your eyes and try to finish the braid


	4. Wincesters aren't the Best at Coping with Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set directly after "Swan Song". Reader is grieving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg y'all, this never happens! Two updates in two days!?!!? IT'S A MIRACLE!!! 
> 
> To be completely honest, I just felt so compelled to finish this chapter. The next one will be skipping a couple of seasons...if I don't decide to write one in between.
> 
> For future reference:  
> (Y/F/C) = your favorite candy

Steeling yourself, you bound up the stairs. You take a deep breath before knocking on Hotch's door.   
  
"Come in," you hear muffled through the door. You open the door before quickly shutting it behind yourself. Hotch's brow arches for a second before reverting to his usual unreadable canvas.   
"What can I do for you, Winchester?"   
  
"I'm going to need take some, um, leave. There's been a uh," you falter as hot tears sting your eyes. You bite your lip in an attempt to will the water works away. It doesn't work. A tear rolls down your cheek. You quickly wipe at your eyes, hoping that will be enough to combat the urge to break down. "There's been a loss in my family and I need to take some time to deal with it." Your throat feels tight as you force the words out, causing your voice to waver and break. "I know that if I stay, I'll only slow down the team."   
  
"Of course. I'll be sure to put in the paperwork for a few weeks of leave, effective immediately." You turn to leave when you hear him call out, "Oh and (Y/N)?"   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"I'm sorry for your loss. Take all the time you need; the BAU will still be here when you're ready."   
  
"Thank you sir."   


* * *

  
You wake up to your phone exploding with notifications. Running a hand through your tangled hair, you check the messages.   
  
**Penny [10:32 am] r u ok sweetums? Hotch had me send in ur leave. He said a family member passed?** ****  
**Penny [10:36 am] sweetie we're all worried abt u**   
  
You manage a small smile. Penelope has such a big heart. The smile doesn't last long. Dread fills your body as you are reminded why she's worried about you.   
  
**You [10:43 am] My brother died. I'm gonna need some time.**   
  
A tear slips down your face. You harshly swipe it away. It only takes her a second to reply.   
  
**Penny [10:44 am] Oh my God** ****  
**Penny [10:44 am] sweetie I'm SO sorry <3 <3 <3** ****  
**Penny [10:47 am] reid is coming over later with sustenance. No arguments.** ****  
****  
**You [10:48 am] thanks for telling me in advance...im a mess** ****  
****  
**Penny [10:50 am] hun don't worry about it. Trust me, Reid has seen worse. Just remember to make your bed and feed Margot.** ****  
  
"Fuck." You throw the covers aside and spring out of bed, hissing as your feet hit the cold floor. Padding out of the room, you head to the small kitchen. Being your usual self, a clumsy idiot when you're tired, you stub your toe on a metal food bowl. Shaking your head, you set it on the counter - a guaranteed safe distance from your feet. You reach into a cupboard and pull out canned tuna. It gets placed next to the bowl for the time being. Sifting through the drawers, you search for the can opener. When the lil fucker is nowhere to be found, you settle for an old fashioned P-38. It's a little crude and takes longer than the modern can opener, but it gets the job done. You scoop the tuna out of the tin and into bowl.   
"Margot! Food!" Setting the food bowl next to her water bowl, you make kissy noises. Not a minute later, do you hear a thunk followed by skittering. A fluffy Maine Coon with bright eyes slides into the kitchen, nails clacking as she tries to regain her footing.   
"There you are, Margot." You lean down to give her a pat. She meows at the attention and rubs against your hand. "Food's in the bowl, sweetie."   
With Margot taken care of for the time being, you head to the bathroom.   


* * *

  
Really, you should've expected the sight before you. Your eyes are bloodshot; eyelids and under eyes pink and puffy. Your eye bags are more defined than usual, highlighting your lack of sleep. Your hair is a mess from all the tossing and turning during the night.   
In other words, you look like one of the monsters you used to hunt.   
Sighing, you grab your hairbrush and start untangling the rat’s nest on your head. You don't even know what to do about your face. Makeup is a no go since you're only going to cry it off later. Maybe sunglasses?   
A yank on a particularly large knot shakes you from your thoughts. This might take more effort than you posses at the moment. Maybe you should just put your hair in a bun.   


* * *

  
As it turns out, making your bed takes too much effort as well. You settle for hauling a blanket to the couch.   
Snuggled into the corner of the sofa, Margot leaps onto the cushion beside your leg. She climbs into your lap and seemingly tests the stability before laying down.   
‘At least she's always here to comfort me,’ you briefly think. It triggers another flood of tears as you remember that a certain person won't ever comfort you again.   
  
You turn on your phone and scroll through the camera roll until you come across the only photo you have of your brothers. It's terrible quality, but you love it. Sam is passed out on a crappy hotel bed, jaw hanging open and limbs sprawled awkwardly while Dean is sitting on the edge of the bed, hands miming moose antlers, eyes crossed, and tongue sticking out.   
A laugh catches in your throat and morphs into a sob. The phone falls from your hands as your body wracks with sobs. You choke on the tears streaming down your face. Margot cuddles closer.

 

* * *

 

You are so out of it that you don't even notice when lock on your front door clicks open. You startle when you hear footsteps and a quiet, “(Y/N)?”

 

“Over here Spence,” you say, voice sounding dreadfully rough. The back of the sofa is to the front of the door, so he wouldn't have seen you when he opened the door. Spencer walks around the sofa and sets a grocery bag on the wooden coffee table. He sits beside you and looks in your direction, putting his messenger bag beside his feet. You can't bring yourself to look at his face, you probably look like even more of a mess than earlier.

“How are you, (Y/N)?”

 

You laugh mirthlessly, “I feel like shit.”   


“That's expected.” You finally meet his gaze. It's surprisingly soft. “Garcia gave me a list of ‘essentials’, which apparently just means junk food. She said it was some of your favorites.” He points at the grocery bag and then puts his hands in his lap and proceeds to wring them.

 

Trying to calm his nerves a bit, you say, “Thanks Spence.”

 

“Of course, (Y/N),” he says, looking straight in your eyes, sounding so Goddamn sincere. He looks down at Margot who’s bunkered down, sleeping soundly in your lap.

“How is Margot?”

 

“Hopefully not hungry when she wakes up. I just fed her...like an hour ago.” You run a hand down her back, “Besides, she only gets two meals a day...but sometimes she's an asshole about it.”

 

That gets an amused snort from Spencer. You take a moment to look at your snoozing cat.

 

“Want to watch a show?” You ask, trying to find a way to avoid talking as much as possible. What do you say if he wants to talk about Sam, _‘Oh yeah my brother decided to say yes to being Lucifer’s meat suit and he sacrificed himself to stop the apocalypse.’_ No that would never work, he'd probably just think you were deflecting and not telling the truth.

 

So for now, tv.

 

“What did you have in mind?”

 

“NCIS?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Do you mind putting it on? I'm kinda comfy in my blanket burrito and I don't want to wake Margot up.”

 

He gives you a smile (damn it stop smiling, you look like sunshine and unicorns-) and stands up to grab the remote. Before settling down on the sofa, he asks, “Do you want any of the snacks I brought?”

 

You nod your head and he opens the bag, taking out (Y/F/C) and a bag of potato chips. He hands them to you before grabbing his own bag of chips.

 

“Thanks Spence,” you say and open the bag of chips. He smiles at you once again and starts the show.

 

* * *

 

For the most part, you watch the show in silence - save for Reid's occasional comment about the inaccuracies of the procedural crime drama and the sound of chewing.

 

The issue is when the episode ends.

 

There's no buffer to save you from addressing the problem at hand, and you know he's going to bring it up at some point.

“So, (Y/N), you know you can talk to me about anything.” Aaaand there it is. But of course, there _are_ things you can't tell him. He doesn't need to know that though.

 

“Of course.”

 

“In that case, you know that I'm here for you if you want to talk about your brother.”

 

Your jaw clenches,“Yeah.”

 

“Do you want…”

 

“No.”

 

“Okay.”

 

A few seconds pass, and then a minute, and then you don't know how long it's been because all you can think of is how nice it would be to just talk about it.

 

“He was tall.”

 

Reid looks at you in surprise.

 

“My brother, Sam. He was really tall. We had an acquaintance who nicknamed him ‘moose’- that's how tall he was,” you chuckle. “And he was so kind and empathetic. He was so good with people...and animals too. He always wanted a dog,” you face crumbles and a tear escapes your tightly shut eyes. You hide behind your hands. “He never got t-to have a dog. He-he deserved to have a d-d-dog,” and now you're fully sobbing.

 

Spencer, ever the awkward one in these situations, puts a hesitant hand on your shoulder. You turn into him, causing Margo to startle and scatter from the room. You sob into his shoulder as he rubs your back. Eventually, you pull away with a sniffle and wipe your eyes.

 

“Sorry, that was embarrassing.”

 

“Don't be. It's okay to let the emotions out. It's healthier than keeping it in.”

 

And now you're back to silence. Great.

 

“How long have you known?”

 

“Oh, um, I found out the day before last. My other brother didn't have the decency to tell me, apparently. My best friend was the one who told me.” You chuckle humorlessly, “Word on the grapevine is that my brother, Dean, ran off to play house with this girl right after it happened. Couldn't even spare me a phone call.” The tears are falling again.

 

“I'm sorry, (Y/N).”

 

“It's fine,” you wave away his concerns. “Guess he assumed Bobby or Cas would call me. Still sucks that _he_ wasn't the one to do it.”

 

“You could always call him”

 

“Already tried. Said that the number was no longer in use. When I see him again, I am going to kick his ass.”

 

Spence smiles at your tenacity, “I’d love to see that.”

 

“So would I,” you say, and for the first time today, your laughter is born of amusement.

 

You start thinking that maybe you're going to be alright.


	5. Adopting an Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set at the end of Supernatural's s9 ep3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the e x t r e m e l y long wait!!! Hopefully y'all enjoy this installment!

You look up from finishing the paperwork of your most recent case when your phone starts playing the intro to Eye Of The Tiger, signalling a call from Dean. A smile breaks out across your face. Shutting the file, you pull the phone out of your pant pocket and accept the call. You ignore the questioning looks from your co-workers and head to the lobby.  
  
"(Y/N/N)?"  
  
"I'm here Dean. Just needed to go somewhere with a little more privacy. I'm at work y'know."  
  
"I know squirt. Wouldn't call unless it was urgent."  
  
"What happened? Did you find Cas?"  
  
You hear a sigh and some rustling. "Yeah, um, about that..."  
  
"Dean?"  
  
"We found him - fucking finally - but apparently he's human now and...the thing is, Zeke says it's too dangerous for Cas to stay. We're kinda fucked because Sam is too weak to live without angel mojo, and Zeke doesn't wanna be around Cas," he says 'dick' under his breath. "I was thinkin' you could take Cas in. I mean it's either your place, or the streets."  
  
"Of course he can stay with me; he's family."  
  
"Right, then it's settled. How 'bout we meet halfway? That'd be, what? Indiana? Illinois?"  
  
"Sounds about right."  
  
"You good to drive over tomorrow?"  
  
"Yeah, actually tomorrow is one of my rare off days."  
  
"Huh, that works out well. Where do you want to meet? Biggerson's?"  
  
"That'll work. I'll text you the deats later."  
  
"Okay. See ya soon sis."  
  
"Back atcha Dean-bean!" You hang up before he can protest the nickname. You punch the air as you push past the glass doors. Derek, who is spinning in his chair playing with a tennis ball, turns his attention to you.  
  
"What was that about, sweetheart?"  
  
"Oh, my brother just called to ask if our best friend could stay with me." You slide back into your chair and toss your phone in your purse.  
  
"You sure? It looked like you got yourself a hot date."  
  
"Pretty sure there, Derek. I just haven't seen Cas in a while. It'll be nice to have him over."  
  
"If you say so, princess," he says with a shit eating grin. You roll your eyes and continue filling in the unfinished report.  
  
Spence leans closer to the divider separating your desks and sends you an all too understanding look. "Ignore Morgan. For some reason he feels the need to interfere with everyone's love lives."  
  
"There's no love life to interfere with in the first place," you say with a pen in your mouth.  
  
"That's the problem. I never thought we'd have a team member who gets less that pretty boy," Derek says as he passes the ball from hand to hand. Spencer lets out an indignant squawk (which he will totally deny) and your cheeks color.  
  
"I hate to say it, but Morgan's right," Prentiss says.  
  
"What's Morgan right about?" Penelope asks as she and JJ step down the stairs.  
  
"(Y/N)'s love life. Morgan was saying that I 'get more' than her," Reid replies.  
  
"Thanks a lot Spence," you grumble.

“You never know…(Y/N) could totally have a secret boyfriend we don't know about,” Garcia says, earning her a glare from you.

"It'd be really great if you all could stop speculating on my non-existent love life. You're making it incredibly difficult for me to follow through with my plans of finishing up this paperwork and heading home for a night of some well deserved beautyrest."  
  
Derek is quick to remark, "You know what would be better that a night of sleep? A night filled with hot, mind blowing-"  
  
"Alright then! I'm seeking asylum in Rossi's office." True to your word, you grab the pile of files and a pen and bolt up the stairs.

 

* * *

 

You storm into Rossi's office and plop into a chair opposite his desk.

He looks up from a stack of papers with a pen in his hand, "What's up kiddo?"  
  
You sigh deeply, "Everyone is adamant that I need a boyfriend. I am perfectly fine by myself...and my love life is none of their business."  
  
"That is true..."  
  
"Just because I'm not dating, doesn't mean I'm lonely. I have plenty of friends and family- I have Margot." You take a breath and gather your thoughts before continuing, "Sure, it would be nice to be with someone, but there's no way they'd ever feel the same for me."  
  
David stops twirling his pen and says,"You have someone in mind?"  
  
"Um, yeah, I-I mean sure...there might be someone - but they're light years out of my league."  
  
He sets the pen down and, with a fond smile, looks you straight in the eye. "I highly doubt that, (Y/N)."  
  
"It's true. Besides, we've been friends for years; I don't think he'll magically develop not-so platonic feelings for me overnight."  
  
"Who knows? Maybe he already feels that way."  
  
You shake your head vehemently. "I really don't think so."

 

* * *

 

You turn off the engine and close your eyes for a second. You made it to the Biggerson's of your choice in La Fayette, Indiana. The drive was longer than you were used to. The BAU’s private jet is a blessing but makes it hard to revert back to the long drives of your hunting days.

Dean and Cas should be there soon, their drive only a bit longer than yours. Now, you just want to rest for a second…

A knock on the window pulls you from an impending nap. You look up to see Dean wearing his usual grin. You roll your eyes and get out of your car. Cas is standing behind him, looking oddly timid for a million year old being.

“Hey guys, long time no see,” you greet and give Dean a hug. You step away from him and pull Cas into a similar hug. His arms hang by his sides for a second, as if he wasn't expecting your embrace, before hesitantly wrapping around your frame. You pat his back as the hug ends.

“Why don’t we get some food? I for one, am starving,” you say.

“I could go for a burger,” Dean says while Cas gives a nod of assent.

 

* * *

 

“So Cas, how has humanity been so far?” You ask as you dip a french fry in your shake. Dean and Castiel sit a little too close to each other in the booth bench opposite yours. Cas goes rigid at your question, freezing mid bite into his burger. You give him a reassuring smile and Dean nudges him with his shoulder.

“Well so far it has been...confusing,” Cas starts. “There is the constant need to hydrate and feed one's self, followed by the constant need to relieve one’s bladder. That is very annoying. And now I have to deal with temperature. With my grace, changes in temperature did not bother me. Now it seems that everything is either too hot or too cold.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “But I do enjoy music now. It is...different. I also enjoy food. It is very good.” He closes his eyes and hums around the next bite of his burger. You barely contain a snort at the way Dean reacts - shifting on the bench and taking a _long_ drag of his coffee.

“It has been difficult experiencing everything differently and all at once,” Cas concludes after swallowing.

“Don't worry Cas, you'll be a pro in no time with me as your guide.”

 

* * *

 

Saying goodbye to Dean is bittersweet. He obviously hates having to give Cas away, if the longing looks and _too-long-to-be-platonic_ goodbye hug is anything to go by. Cas clambers into the passenger side of your car, giving you some time with your brother.

“He'll be fine Dean.”

“I know he will. It's just...” He looks over your shoulder at the fallen angel and opens and closes his mouth a few times, obviously failing to say what he wants. ”Take good care of him, (Y/N).”

“I will.” You hug him and plant a kiss on his cheek when you pull away. “Call me sometime? I expect you to check in on your boyfriend.”

“He's not my b-”

“The man you no-homo eye fuck then.”

He looks away and mutters, “Shuddup.”

“Whatever. Don't be a stranger.” You pat his shoulder before backing away to the car. You hop into the driver's side and stick your key in the ignition. “Ready to get this show on the road, Cas?” You ask as the engine turns over.

 

* * *

 

Cas is silent for the majority of the drive home. That doesn't mean the car is silent though. You take it upon yourself to introduce Cas to the music Dean would never play in his Baby. That means ABBA, Beyoncé, and Sara Bareilles take turns blasting through the speakers with you singing along. Cas comments on a song every once in a while, telling you he enjoys the beat or that the harmonies are pleasing.

 

* * *

 

“Home sweet home,” you murmur, putting the car into park and switching off the engine. You and Castiel clamber out of the car, doors shutting with a loud slam. As Cas retrieves his bag from the trunk, you unlock the door to your humble abode. It's almost as if a weight lifts off your chest when you switch the light on and kick your boots off.

Your place isn't much - simply a one bedroom apartment with a study, small kitchen, and bathroom - but it's home.

Castiel enters after you, duffle bag in one hand. He shuts the door behind himself and lingers as if he doesn't know what to do with himself.

“Why don't I give you grand tour?” You suggest. He nods. “Well this right here is the living room,” you point out, looking to your right where a sofa and armchair are pushed against the wall. A small television sits on top of a wooden coffee table in front of the plush seating. You walk a few feet to the kitchenette. “This is the kitchen.” You turn to left and point out a door. “That's my bedroom,” you look down the hall where there are two more doors, “and the door to the right to the bathroom. The door to the left is the study and where you'll be staying.”

You turn back to Cas, who is looking around learning an expression akin to awe. “Come on, lemme get settled in for the night.”

 

* * *

 

It took roughly an hour to show Cas the ropes. You first showed him his dresser in his room, where you quickly found out that you'd need to take Cas on a shopping trip since he'd only packed hand-me-downs from Dean. Not that you didn't think it was cute that Dean leant Cas his clothes, but you wanted Cas to find some self identity.

The next step was showing him which toiletries were his, which you'd gone out and bought for him yesterday night. You'd have to tell how to work the shower later.

After that, you bid him goodnight and got ready for bed.

 Now, underneath the covers, you try to clear your mind. It wouldn't do any good to worry about how this change would affect your life now. You could think about that _after_ a good night of sleep.


	6. Adjusting to Life with a Fallen Angel

“ _Caaaaas!_ Hurry up in there!” You yell through the bathroom door. He's been hogging the bathroom for twenty minutes now. At first, you knew he was taking a shower from the sound of rushing water, but now the water is off and you can only hear the occasional clunk.

It really wouldn't be quite a problem if you didn't have to be at work soon. You haven't even been able to do the basics of brushing your teeth, fixing your hair, and covering your anti-possession tattoo.

“Alright, that's it. I'm going in whether you're decent or not!” You crack open the door, to be met with a steamed up room. “Cas?”

 

“Yes, (Y/N)?” It's muffled by the sound of rushing water.

 

“Why's it so hot in here? Did you use all the hot water?”

 

“I apologize, but I couldn't figure out how to lower the temperature.”

 

“Ah f-,” You completely forgot to show him how to work the shower. “I'm sorry Cas. Why don't you wrap a towel around your waist and I show you how it works.” You grab a towel and pull the shower curtain a bit to hand it to him. God this whole thing your fault. You really need to get your act together.

 

* * *

 

You hop to the kitchen counter, trying to slip on your ankle boots and grab your purse. “Remember, no feeding Margot at any time other than breakfast or dinner. Don't let her trick you into thinking she hasn't been fed for weeks. Oh! And please text or call me if you need anything or if you just want to talk. There's peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the fridge but if you want anything else there's takeout menus on the fridge door.” Both boots on and purse over your shoulder, you turn to face Cas. “Got it?”

 

“Yes, (Y/N).”

 

“Okay.” You linger for a minute. “Watch tv, read some books, find some music you like. It'd be great if you could make sure all the warding sigils are doing their job too. When I get back from work we'll go clothes shopping.” He nods. “‘Kay, gotta go. See ya later.” You give him a quick hug and rush to the door.

 

* * *

 

“Rough night?” Emily asks as you deposit your coat and purse at your desk.

 

“More like rough morning,” you sigh and push a clump of hair out of your face. “The world would be so much easier if every shower worked the same way.”

 

“Before the 1960's, when electric showers were created, all showers generally worked the same way. Unless you had an older model, then-”

 

“Thanks Spence.” You don't make a habit out if cutting him off, since you genuinely love hearing him spout facts, but you _really_ aren't in the mood for it today. You drop into your seat and rub your forehead. There were so many things that could go wrong. Cas could have a peanut allergy, or Margot could hate him, or - worst case scenario - the sigil wardings could be damaged and the angels find him. “Gosh I feel like an overprotective mother.”

 

Hotch exits his office, followed by Penelope, and directs his focus on the bullpen. “We got a case. Wheels up in twenty. We'll brief on the plane.”

 

“Oh great,” you sigh.

 

* * *

 

“No - Cas - buddy -” You're on the phone with Cas. It's been a long day and you've yet to find your unsub.

 

JJ looks over at you from the opposite hotel bed, amusement painted all over her face.

 

_“Is the cheese pasta in a green container?”_

 

“Macaroni and cheese isn't-”

 

_“Do you cook it in the bowl you eat it from? That seems much easier. Could I use this plastic-”_

 

“No! Under no circumstance do you mix plastic and heat while cooking!”

 

_“...Oh. Alright. I have everything in the not plastic bowl-”_

 

“The pasta, cheese, water, and milk?”

 

_“Yes, but I'm having difficulties lighting the stove…”_

 

_Oh boy_. Maybe it would be better if he didn't do this on his own. “Okay you know what? Why don't you abandon this and try the microwaveable one?”

 

_“What? Why? Was I not doing well?”_

 

“I just think it'd be easier if we cooked it _together_ for your first time. It's kinda hard for me to help you out when I can't even see what's going on. Anyways, you got the microwaveable one?”

 

_“Hold on just a- yes I have it.”_

 

“Okay, for this one, all you have to do is add water and put it in the microwave.”

 

_“Which appliance is the microwave, again?”_

 

“Cas, _sweetie,_ the microwave is the metal box with a glass window-”

 

_“Above the oven?”_

 

“Yes that one. It has buttons with numbers on them. Each number is that amount of seconds.”

 

_“How many seconds do I choose?”_

 

“Just look- just look on the back of the container.”

 

_“It says three point five minutes.”_

 

“Okay to start why don't you press three twice and then zero.”

 

_“And these are the buttons you said are seconds?”_

 

“Uh huh, but right now they're place value.” You hear the high pitched beeping, “And then you press start.” The final beep sounds and then the low hum of the microwave kicks in. “Oh! And make sure you don't put anything metal in there, like a spoon or a fork.”

 

He doesn't respond and then there's a dull clunk.  

 

“Cas. Cas?” Maybe he just dropped something. Nothing too serious.

 

There's a rustling sound and then a sharp clatter, like metal against metal. There's a muffled swear and then a harsh, loud crash - like the phone fell.

 

“Cas!?”

 

JJ looks over at you, eyebrows pushed together. She mouths, “Is he okay?”

 

You raise your shoulders and mouth back to her, “I don't know.”

 

_“I apologize for that, (Y/N). I realized that I needed a spoon, and then looked for one. The cutlery drawer proved...trying. I managed to extricate a spoon, but then my sweater caught on pot handle on the stove. It fell and then I dropped the phone.”_

 

“Oh my God,” you exhale and press a palm to your forehead. “Just tell me there's not too much of a mess.”

 

Silence.

 

“Okay.” You sigh. “Clean it up as best you can.  Hopefully I'll be home by tomorrow and we can get you some new clothes.”

 

_“Alright, (Y/N).”_

 

“Goodnight, Cas.”

 

_“Goodnight.”_

 

You end the call and flop back against the bed.

 

“That bad, huh?” JJ asks with a laugh.

 

“Ughh, I feel like a single parent with a clueless preteen-teen.”

 

“Isn't he a grown man?”

 

“Yeah, but he-,” you catch yourself from saying the truth. Not many people would believe the ‘fallen angel’ schtick. “He had a _very_ sheltered upbringing.” Time to spin believable lies. “My brothers and I are the only friends he's ever had and, well, we helped him escape his life.” Close enough.

 

JJ gives you a sympathetic look.

 

* * *

 

“Cas, Margot! I'm home!” The case had taken an extra day to wrap up, but now you are home and ready for sleep.

 

Margot comes skittering from the guest room and rubs against your legs, followed by Cas. He smiles softly at you. “Hello, (Y/N).”

 

“Hey, Cas. Held down the fort while I was gone? Margot didn't bother you too much, did she?” You lean down to scratch behind her ears.

 

“To the contrary, she was quite the amicable companion.”

 

“Good, good.” You drop your purse on the coffee table. “I'm wiped, so I'm gonna head straight to bed. If you need me, just knock.” You give him a quick hug and then disappear to the bathroom. What a long day.

 

* * *

 

You hear a timid knock in your bedroom door. Looking over at your digital clock, it reads 2:34 AM. What could he possibly need at such an ungodly hour. “Cas?”

 

He cracks the door open and peeks his head in. “I'm sorry to bother you, but I was having difficulties sleeping.”

 

Figures. “C'mere,” you say, eyes fighting to stay open. He walks cautiously over to the foot of your bed. You pat the empty side of the bed. “Under the covers, silly. I don't bite.” He slides into the bed beside you, keeping a respectable distance. You blindly reach for a bottle on your bedside table and hand it to him. “Melatonin,” you say, “just chew a couple.”

 

“Thank you.” The sound of the bottle unscrewing, tablets rattling, and molars crunching against said tablets is harsh in the stillness of the night. The fallen angel passes the bottle back to you when he's done, letting you place it on the bedside table. He settles down on his side, facing away from you.

 

“G'night, buddy.”

 

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

 

You fall asleep to the rhythm of his shallow breaths.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos and comments please! I'm looking forward to seeing the feedback for this fic ;)
> 
> Plus comments turn me into a unicorn (aka I radiate happiness and rainbows shoot out of my ass)


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